Diary of Jane
by WitchwithKids
Summary: Follow the events of the Mass Effect series through the eyes of engineer Jane Shepard, sister to Commander John Shepard, and Garrus Vakarian, John's best friend and comrade. How they come together, how they're torn apart, and how they help stop the Reapers from destroying the universe. Follow their journey, from the Normandy to the Citadel, and beyond.
1. Luna

**Chapter One: Luna**

Garrus Vakarian stared at the gray mush in his bowl, listening to the buzz of conversation around him. After two days of the Normandy's dextro-rations, he was starting to wish he had raided his own pantry before coming aboard. The aromas coming from the galley made his mouth water, but he knew that risking an allergic reaction was a bad idea when he was hours away from his first mission with Shepard.

He couldn't decide which turned his stomach more: the gruel on the table in front of him, or the fact that John Shepard was still subject to the whims of the Alliance. The human was a Council Spectre now, and his priority should be apprehending Saren, not taking care of a rogue VI on Earth's moon. It was a small consolation that the commander had selected Garrus and Tali to accompany him, the only two crew members on board with both tech **and** combat experience. But it certainly hadn't won either of them any favors from the humans on board.

About half of the Alliance crew had accepted the non-humans, and a few had gone out of their way to make sure they felt welcome. Garrus had made fast friends with Dr. Chokwas, and Adams in engineering practically gushed over Tali. But Pressley and Williams were going to be a hard sell. They had been the most outspoken amongst the humans on board, and not even Shepard's words could convince them that the "aliens" belonged on the Normandy as much as they did. Humans, Garrus decided, were just as stubborn and suspicious by nature as turians.

He chuckled and shoveled a spoonful of mush into his mouth, trying not to taste it before it slid down his throat. Across the table, Tali looked up at him, but with that damned mask on her face Garrus couldn't tell if it was curiosity, worry, or something else entirely. She was sipping at a liquidized version of his own breakfast, and he felt a twinge of guilt at his distaste for the bland rations. Quarians drank the same crap every day. At least his own race had the opportunity for variety in their cuisine.

"Joker says our ETA is two hours. Then it's about an hour to the base in the Mako from the LZ," Tali mentioned while he choked down a few more bites.

"What about the Alliance tech team?" Garrus was certain that he wasn't really supposed to know about that, but the humans had underestimated his superior sense of hearing. He knew there was a specialty crew being sent to restructure the VI once the Normandy team shut it down, but they were limited to scientists and mechanics. Not a single warrior among them.

"Word gets around fast," Tali replied with a chuckle. "They're on their way. ETA four hours now, I think. Joker won't shut up about it, actually. Says an old friend from the Academy is with them and he wants to catch up."

"Getting a little chummy with the pilot?" teased Garrus, raising a brow ridge and twitching his mandibles in a turian equivalent of a smirk.

"Goodness, no!" she defended. "But I have a great deal of respect for him. He loves the Normandy. He **knows** her. He's always in contact with Adams and I about how she's running and what we can tweak to make her better."

"The best pilot for the best ship in the fleet," said a voice coming up from behind him. Garrus didn't need to turn around to know it was Shepard. "Are we ready for the mission?" he asked, pulling a chair to the end of the table to sit between Tali and Garrus.

"Absolutely," Garrus replied, masking his earlier doubts. He truly was looking forward to working with the commander, even if it was taking care of an Alliance problem.

"Good to hear it. I hate having to drag you guys along for this, but you're the best suited, and Hackett didn't say anything about who I should bring with me to help." Shepard winked conspiratorially, obviously amused that he would be taking alien crew members to Luna. It was his boundary pushing and forward thinking that had gotten the commander into the position he was in at such a young age, and it was effective even if he did tend to step on some toes further up the hierarchy. Unconventional, yes, but it got results and drew people to his side.

"We're happy to help," replied Tali.

"Good to hear. I'll see you both suited up and ready to go in a couple of hours." Shepard stood and nodded at them both before taking his leave.

X

Four hours later, Garrus was both cursing and marveling at the VI's defense system. His armor was score-marked from half a dozen hits from the drone's lasers and smoke clouded the room in the third and final bunker. But he had to admit, whomever had written the programming had done an excellent job at deterring all but the most determined strike team. Which, Garrus thought with a touch of pride, he happened to be a part of. The Alliance most certainly wasn't going to be happy about having to replace nearly all of their equipment, but it was better than the alternative.

"Commander?" Joker asked, patching through the comm link. "The Whedon has just arrived."

"Tell them it's safe to land, but I don't want them in the bunkers until we take care of this last batch of generators."

And sure enough, as if the VI knew that it had reached the end of its rebellion, extra drones were dispatched just as their party reached the final room. They were easy enough to take out, but Spirits there were just so damn many of them. The trio had tried to overload the circuits of as many as they could to save replacing them entirely, but there was still a mess of metal and wire on the floor around them from where they'd had to save their omnitools from burning out in the process.

"All clear, Joker," Shepard said as they walked through the scrap. "Bring the Normandy down so we can load up the Mako and head out."

"Aye, aye, Commander."

When they stepped back out into Luna's atmosphere, Garrus could see two ships on the far side of the barren field, just sky of a klik away from their current position. The Normandy was easily distinguishable, but there was something odd about the smaller craft next to it. It was an older model, probably pre-dating the First Contact War, but nothing like any of the Alliance ships he had seen before. Fortunately, Garrus didn't need to say anything. Tali's endless pool of curiosity took care of that for him.

"What sort of ship is that, exactly?" she asked as they loaded up in the Mako.

"A prototype," Shepard replied. "Or, at least, it started that way. The Alliance R&D teams developed their own unique fleet based off spacecraft from old movies. This one here is the Whedon. They have two others: the Lucas and the Roddenberry. If you want the back-story, you'll have to ask Engineer Adams."

"I'll be sure to do that. Thanks, Shepard."

"Don't thank me yet. He may sit you down and force you to watch every _Star Trek_ episode and film made in the past 200 years," he replied with a chuckle.

As they approached the Normandy, they could see a pair of soldiers loading a crate into the cargo bay. Shepard slowed the Mako to allow them time to finish their work, but it was clear as the vehicle pulled in that the box, along with the two identical ones next to it, was to be taken to the Citadel. The Commander narrowed his eyes at the sight and hastily parked the Mako before climbing out to find out what his ship was being used for **this** time.

"Joker, would you mind telling the captain of the Whedon that this is a warship and not a cargo ship?" No answer, and anger began to radiate from Shepard. "Joker, this isn't funny," he said, reaching for his weapon.

"Put the gun away, Johnny," came a new voice through their comm. Shepard was openly surprised, his wide-eyed expression evident even through his helmet visor. When he turned his head towards the elevator, Garrus glanced in the same direction. Leaning against one of the support beams, clad in the lightweight black and silver space suit associated with Alliance engineers, was a young woman he had never seen before. But it was clear from the shocked expression on the commander's face that he **did** know this stranger, and her appearance on the Normandy was an unexpected one.

The woman glanced at the men who had brought the cargo on board and nodded at them to leave. As they did so, Garrus took a moment to scrutinize the newcomer. The stripes on her light armor were similar in style to Shepard's, and sure enough, there was an I-7 insignia on her right shoulder, a dead giveaway that she was just as specialized in her field as the commander was in his.

Behind them all, the cargo door hissed as it came to a close and precious oxygen rushed back into the bay. Since Shepard seemed to still be in shock, the woman sauntered towards them, removing her helmet. When she did, it was evident to Garrus why the commander was left speechless at her appearance on the Normandy. Her hair was dark, like his, but with a touch more red than brown, and she shared the same shockingly green eyes that the female crew members never shut up about. She was tall for a human female, perhaps only a few centimeters shorter than John, and wore the utility belt at her waist as casually as he wore his side-arm.

By the time she reached them, John had snapped out of his stunned silence and taken off his own helmet. Garrus and Tali did the same as the woman stood in salute to the commander, a mischievous glint in her eyes betraying the necessary formality. Shepard returned the gesture, a smile finally playing at the corner of his lips.

"Lieutenant-Commander," he said. "It's a pleasant surprise to have you on board. It's been…too long."

"Two years," she replied, sparing a glance for Garrus and Tali. "I see you've finally joined the 22nd century and added some new faces to your crew."

"Ah, yes," said Shepard, clearing his throat and turning his attention towards his squad mates. "This is Tali'Zorah vas Neema and Garrus Vakarian. Guys, this is Lieutenant-Commander Jane Shepard."

"Shepard?" Tali asked as Jane took her hand in greeting. "You two are related?"

"Shh," the human woman teased. "John doesn't want everyone to know that he's not Mother's favorite anymore."

"Oh, I got that title back a few days ago. First human Spectre, remember?"

Her attention shifted from Tali to Garrus, but the banter between the two Shepards flowed seamlessly. "Helped design the Normandy, remember?" she joked, slipping her hand into the turian's before Garrus even realized he had been holding it out. Some habits never died.

"Ahh, sibling rivalry," he said, earning a warm smile from Jane. "It almost makes me homesick."

"Fifty points to the turian!" Joker's voice pierced through the comm. "Now get your ass up to the cockpit, LC. Big Brother's not the only one who hasn't seen you in a few years."

"I still outrank you, Morou."

"Yeah, yeah. Technicalities."

The younger Shepard spared a brief wink for her brother before turning her attention back to Garrus. Her grin didn't fade, but the light in her eyes dimmed for the barest of moments as she studied his face. Jane skimmed over his markings, and gave him a brief nod before releasing his hand. Before she turned away, he saw a hint of something he'd never seen another human express in the presence of a turian.

Recognition.

***Disclaimer* Bioware owns "Mass Effect." **

**Welcome to "The Diary of Jane." This is my fifth venture into Mass Effect fanfic territory, and will be different from my first story, "El Tigre" in most ways except the obvious "little sister" twist. It will be exclusively from the point of view of both Garrus Vakarian and Jane Shepard. I will encompass plot-lines from all three of the games, along with most of the DLC elements and comics, but there will definitely be some AU twists thrown in. Settle in & prepare for the long-haul. We've got a lot of space to cover. :-)**


	2. The Passenger

**Chapter Two: The Passenger**

Jane Shepard did her best to conceal her surprise as she walked away from Garrus Vakarian. Having spent two years in the company of turians while working on designs for the Normandy, she had studied as much as she could about their history, lineages and language. If the blue hadn't given it away, the clan markings certainly had. Bloody hell, did John have any clue just **who** he had taken on as part of his crew?

"So, you helped design the ship?" asked the quarian, Tali'Zorah, breaking Jane from her musings as they entered the elevator.

"Design, yes. Build, no," she replied. "This is the first time I've seen her since the final blueprints were drawn up."

"So what brings you to the Normandy? I didn't hear anything about Adams being replaced."

"He's not. In fact, I requested him specifically for his position. I'm just along for the ride until you return to the Citadel."

"Taking shore leave on a ship?" asked Garrus. "That doesn't sound like much fun."

"We're spacer brats," she explained. "More at home on a ship than on the ground. Besides," she said, punching John lightly, "I get to see what all this hype is over my brother."

"I am kind of a big deal," John teased, and she socked him again. Oh, how she had missed him. Letters and vid-comm conversations just didn't add up to what it was like having John around on a daily basis. Two peas in a pod they had been as kids, but their times together had been sparse the past ten years, and Jane always made the most when they had it. True, Johnny had his duties to attend to on the Normandy, but that didn't mean he didn't have down-time.

But Vakarian? **He** would be a distraction. All turians bled blue, but few ran as blue as his clan.

Jane let out low sigh of relief when the elevator stopped to let out Garrus and Tali on the crew deck. The quarian didn't seem to notice, but the former caught her eyes for a brief second before the door closed. Curiosity danced in his gray-blue orbs. _Challenge accepted_, they seemed to say, as if somehow he knew that her thoughts had been on him.

"God, I've missed you, Janie," said John, pulling her into a bone-jarring embrace once the crew was out of sight. She squeezed him back, glad for both the distraction and the affection that only her brother ever seemed to have for her. "I'm glad you're here, but it might be a couple of weeks before we're back on the Citadel."

"Oh, believe me," she replied, pulling back to get a good look at him, "I have about a month of shore leave stored up. Feel free to use up as much of it as you like." He had a few new lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth when he smiled, and Jane imagined that with his new Spectre duties, it wouldn't be long before he started earning a few gray hairs to match. It was the inevitable price of command, and she didn't envy him one bit for it.

"Nah, save some of it. Once this business with Saren is dealt with, we'll kidnap Mom and go somewhere with sunshine and fruity drinks."

"And girls in bikinis?"

"How'd you guess?"

Their laughter drew a few stares from the crew on the CIC deck as the elevator doors opened again. More than a few of them saluted as they walked by on their way to the cockpit, but most openly stared. But it was the helm Jane had her eyes on, and the man in the pilot's chair staring the siblings down.

Jeff Morou had been her surrogate brother at the Academy. He had been a hard-ass at first, hiding from the other flight school students in the library, which is where she had found him one evening while cramming for an exam. He had been scanning the schematics for the Lucas, and when Jane saw what he was doing, she couldn't help but ask if he wanted to see the ship in person. It had taken her months to finally convince him, preaching that since he wasn't letting his disability stop him from serving with the Alliance, then it shouldn't stop him from seeing the prototype spacecraft he seemed to be obsessed with. During that time, they became fast friends, and had kept in touch regularly once they graduated and moved on to their individual assignments.

"Hey, LC!" he said as they approached, swiveling in his chair like an excited toddler. "I never got to thank you for the sweet ride."

"I had nothing to do with this, Joker," she teased, putting her hands on the arms of the seat to cease the movement. Jane wouldn't ask him to get up, and he knew it, so he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her.

"Liar," he whispered in her ear before she leaned back and pecked his cheek.

"Yup," she replied before stepping back. Nearby, someone cleared their throat, and she spared a glance for the man in the co-pilot's seat. Dark hair, dark eyes, and Lieutenant's stripes on his Alliance fatigues. This guy was military to the core, and she immediately slipped into "officer mode." He was starting to stand, but Jane held up a hand before he could salute.

"Put your arm down, LT," she told him. "I'm on shore leave as of ten minutes ago."

"You're still in uniform, ma'am."

"A fact I plan on remedying as soon as possible." Jane put out her hand, hoping to put the poor man's mind at ease. What she wanted was to relax and not have every military crony saluting her at every turn. As hoped, his arm went out, not up, and he smiled as they shook hands.

"Kaidan Alenko."

"Jane Shepard."

"Shep…" he started to say, but one look from John shut him up. "It's, uh, good to have you on board, ma'am."

"None of that 'ma'am' shit, either," she added.

"Alenko, why don't you show Jane to the crew quarters? Her footlocker's already been brought up to one of the spare bunks," interrupted Joker, with a wink for his friend. Jane rolled her eyes and spared a quick glance back in the Lieutenant's direction. The poor man had turned beet red, and she felt a twinge of pity for him. With a sigh, she nodded at Kaidan and took off in the direction they had come from.

"Don't break his heart!" she heard Morou shout at her.

"Not my type!" she shouted back, sparing a sympathetic smile for her escort.

"An inside joke, I take it?" Kaidan asked, attempting to make conversation. He was a touch nervous, but Jane couldn't tell whether it was because of her rank, her family connection to his commander, or just the fact that he obviously found her attractive. A combination of all three seemed the most likely.

"Not really. It's no secret that John and I grew up as military brats. Soldiers, as a general rule, don't have much in the way of modesty, and while I've seen my fair share of attractive human men, I learned early to shut off that part of me that is attracted **to** them."

"The, um, **men** part or…"

"The **human** part."

"Oh."

Jane suppressed a chuckle as Kaidan led her down a set of stairs in stunned silence. The aroma of a hot meal hit them once the doors opened and she inhaled the scent deeply. There was just something about a warship chef that topped every galley on every other boat in the fleet. As she approached the dining hall, she noticed her old mentor, Greg Adams, sitting with Tali and Garrus. And their meal looked horrendous by comparison.

"I'm going to have a word with your requisitions officer over this crap-ass food for the Turians and Quarians," she said as they approached the table. Greg's face nearly split with the size of his smile as he stood to embrace his former colleague.

"I'll have you know, this is the finest dextro-based cuisine the Normandy has to offer," Garrus said in mock offense. Unable to stop herself, Jane grabbed a spare fork from the table and stabbed at one of the brown pasta-like orbs on his plate. Before anyone could say a word, she popped it in her mouth and grimaced. She chewed. And chewed. And finally swallowed, while nearly everyone nearby waited for her reaction.

"That," she finally said, pointing at Garrus's plate, "tastes like it came out of the ass-end of a pyjak. I am **definitely** talking to someone in requisitions about your dining options, Vakarian. Adams, I'll see you bright and ugly tomorrow morning down in Engineering to play catch-up."

As she walked away, Alenko at her heels, she overheard Greg chuckle and tell the others at the table, "Yep, cut from the same cloth, those Shepard kids."

"How is it, exactly, that you're not a writhing mess of hives on the floor of the dining hall?" Kaidan asked as they passed through the row of sleeping pods on their way to the quarters reserved for higher-ranking crew members.

"I have a high tolerance for dextro-based foods. It's part of what got me a spot on the Normandy project."

"And you weren't worried about Garrus blowing his top if you stole off his plate?"

"Oh, believe me," she said with a smile as they entered the room they were searching for, "If Garrus were a typical turian, he wouldn't be on this ship in the first place."

"How do you fig…oh. He's…" Kaidan struggled for words while Jane looked for her foot locker. Someone, probably Joker, bless his heart for knowing her so well, had put her in a top bunk near the back of the room. "**He's** your 'type,' isn't he?"

She wanted to say, _If by "he's my type" you mean I'm attracted to rebellious turian males from high-ranking military and aristocratic families, then the answer is "yes."_ Instead, she raised an eyebrow and turned her lips up into a smirk.

"Well, have fun with that. His bunk's right there." Kaidan pointed to the lower bunk directly across from her own. "I'll let you settle in." A quick scan of her surroundings showed her that there were no other occupied beds on their end of the room, and they would share a small locker and dressing area across the hall.

"Well, played, Joker," she said into her comm.

"I take it you've found your bunk? How do you like it? I hope your neighbor doesn't keep you up at night."

"Fuck you, Joker."

"You're welcome, Janie."

**A/N: As a general rule, I don't like leaving the first chapter hanging around for more than a day or two, so here's a treat for those of you who have already followed/favorited/reviewed. With several active stories, I can't guarantee the next will be up as quickly, but I will do my best. If you haven't already done so, please feel free to poke around my profile and read the other stories to keep you busy while you're waiting. **


	3. Shepard Family Motto

**Chapter Three: Shepard Family Motto**

The soft beep of an omni-tool woke Garrus just enough to cautiously crack open an eye and examine his surroundings. In a rush, it came back to him that Jane had been assigned the space across from his own, and he closed his eyes once again as the soft orange glow was shut off. He heard her groan softly, followed by the sound of her pulling the covers back over her shoulders as she rolled over to go back to sleep. Garrus resisted the urge to chuckle as he realized she had forgotten to turn off her alarm while on leave.

He hadn't shared bunk space with anyone since his service in the turian military, and having Jane in such close proximity was proving to be a bigger distraction than he had expected it to be. Her stunt in the mess hall the afternoon before had thrown everyone for a loop, until Adams and Chokwas explained that she had an extremely high tolerance for dextro-based foods. That was the last he had seen of her all day, but when he crawled into bed that night, Jane was already passed out in the top bunk across from his own.

She had wasted no time in making herself at home on the Normandy. Her clothes had been meticulously put away in the wardrobe locker and a holo of two happy parents and their rambunctious young children hung on the wall next to her bed. She had even brought her own blanket, with a picture of the Whedon and the oddest-looking crew he'd ever seen. _Well,_ Garrus had thought, _the __**second**__ oddest-looking crew._

As he lay there, silently musing over the Normandy's guest, Garrus heard her shuffling around uncomfortably in her bunk. "Oh, fuck it," she whispered, and he opened his eyes to slits just in time to see Jane slide off the edge of the bed and land softly in the space between the bunks. She had slept in nothing but a t-shirt and panties, and Garrus got an unexpected view of…

_Legs. Spirits, that girl's got some nice legs._ Garrus watched as she made her way to the dressing area and strip her top off to hunt for a set of fatigues to change into. Even in the dark, he could see the slight movement of her muscles, more toned than he would give an engineer credit for. He didn't even realize that he had been admiring the backside of his commanding officer's little sister until a quiet hiss escaped his lips and she spun around to face him with a shirt held up to conceal the front view.

Garrus was just as stunned as she was. The attraction had been immediate and unconscious, but he was at a complete loss at what to say. Jane didn't seem to know how to react, either, standing there with wide eyes and clothes pressed against her mostly-nude body. Finally, he looked away, burying his face in a hand out of embarrassment. When he bothered to look up again, she had pulled the curtain closed and he could hear her dressing hastily.

_What the hell just happened_, he asked himself, rolling over to look at the bunk divider behind him. _She's a __**human**__ for crying out loud! They're soft. Fragile. And she's the commander's __**sister**__ of all things!_ Garrus managed to keep himself occupied with his thoughts while Jane quietly snuck out of the crew quarters. Finally, once the door had hissed close on her departure, he let out a sigh of relief and rolled back over to check the time on his own omni-tool.

05:13. In less than an hour, the rest of the crew would be crawling out of bed. Resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting any more sleep, Garrus silently prayed that Jane hadn't taken herself to the weight room. He had some unexpected frustration to work off.

X

Hours later, Jane found herself belly-up, covered in dirt and grease underneath the Mako. Nobody seemed to have bothered with it after departing from Luna, so she took the task upon herself. Shore leave or not, Jane hated sitting idle. She loved the feel of a wrench in her hand, and it had been keeping her busy while she contemplated what had happened earlier that morning.

She had known Garrus was awake. There was absolutely no way he could have slept through her alarm, which had been quiet enough for the human crew members to ignore, but a turian's ears would have picked up on it immediately. Not turning it off had been her first mistake. Padding around the bunk half naked had been the other.

There had been no indication, absolutely **none**, that Vakarian would find her attractive. It was an oversight on her part to assume that just because ninety percent of turians stuck to their own race that he fell into that particular demographic. But surely if Garrus had a thing for humans, there would have been at least a little bit of buzz about it on the ship that Jane would have overheard. As it was, **she** seemed to be the only one on board with a preference for anyone outside her own species.

"John," she said, pushing a button on the comm speaker and breaking from her thoughts to focus on a trouble spot on the Mako.

"Yeah?" came his reply.

"I'm revoking your driving privileges. The Mako's suspension is a mess."

"There was a mountain in the way."

"Right. Shepard family motto…." Jane started. "'There has to be a harder way,'" they said together. A few nearby crewmembers chuckled at their exchange, including one that was becoming disturbingly familiar. With her concentration broken, she dropped the wrench and cursed.

"Everything ok?" John asked.

"I'm good. I'll catch ya later for lunch."

She cut the comm link as she rolled out from under the vehicle, careful not to collide with the pair of legs that had materialized nearby. Without thinking, Jane took the hand that was offered to help her stand, but it took every ounce of willpower she had not to snap it away once she was up. She eased her fingers out of Garrus' grip and leaned against the vehicle in effort to look relaxed, but she knew he wasn't fooled.

"You're a lot better at hiding your anxiety than most humans," he mentioned quietly. "I'm not sure if I should be flattered or offended."

"It took practice," she confessed. "Turians pick up on a lot of subtleties that humans aren't usually aware of."

"And **you** pick up on a lot of subtleties that most turians aren't aware of." It was a small consolation that Garrus was showing signs of nervousness, too. His hands clasped behind his back. The mandibles on his cheeks twitching. Jane had noticed them, and nodded an affirmation. "I want to apologize. For this morning. It was completely inappropriate for me to…"

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Garrus," she interrupted, trying to reassure him that he had done nothing wrong. "Ship life is like that. Close quarters, half-naked people running around. I just didn't think that you'd…" Jane trailed off, searching for words that would prevent her from putting a foot in her mouth.

"Watch?" he finished for her, and she nodded with relief. "Well, that makes two of us." Jane raised an eyebrow, prompting Garrus to elaborate, which he did after clearing his throat. "Humans never interested me as anything more than colleagues, first with C-Sec and now here on the Normandy," he explained. "But, I guess having a set of bare legs land less than a meter away from my face gave me a different perspective. There's one thing I'm curious about, though," he said, moving in scant inches towards her, testing the boundaries without showing obvious signs to anyone watching. "If you're used to half-naked people running around on a ship, why were you so nervous when you caught me watching?"

"Because I'm **beneath** your interest, Vakarian," she admitted softly, as much to herself as to him. "Yours is one of the oldest lineages on Palaven. It's one thing to be on this ship, helping a Council Spectre chase down a galactic fugitive. It's something else entirely to fool around with an Alliance mechanic just because you think she has a nice ass."

Garrus visibly paled, as if his family's rank hadn't ever crossed his mind as a possible roadblock. But just as swiftly as the shock set in, it faded away and he took a step back. "That's worth some consideration. But how do you know all that? About turians and clan politics?"

Jane closed her eyes, both cherishing and loathing the memories that his question raised. The heat of anger in one turian engineer's eyes whenever he disagreed with her. The icy glare of the lone female who always thought Jane wasn't worthy of the honor of her position. The warmth of Quin's touch, both as a lover and as the only friend she had managed to keep after the Normandy project.

"You don't spend two years of your life in the company of an alien species without learning something about what makes them tick," she replied, opening her eyes and smiling sadly at Garrus. His expression warmed, and he knew that she wasn't going to elaborate. Jane **liked** him, not just because she was attracted to him, but because he was a good man. She would be more than happy adding him to the small circle of friends she had acquired over the term of her service in the Alliance. **If** she could manage to keep her hormones in check.

"Maybe someday you could tell me what it was like," he said. "I'm sure by then I'll have plenty of my own Normandy stories to swap."

"Now **that** I can do," replied Jane, her spirits lifted by his friendly undertones. Sensing that their conversation had come to an end, Garrus nodded in farewell and took off towards the elevator. She watched for a moment as she gathered her tools. The Mako would have to wait until later. The Shepard kids had a lunch date before John's next mission, and Jane found herself in bad need of a cold shower.

* * *

**Thanks for the faves/follows/comments everyone. I'm still in the early stages of this story, and every new reader is appreciated. One thing from the comments that I want to clear up: there is more than one school of specialization in the Alliance military. N7 is a combat class, and the only one mentioned by name in any of the games or wikis. Jane is a mechanical engineer, not a combat engineer, and I took creative liberty by creating the I7 rank for her field.**


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